CHAPTER XV.

  THE GOVERNMENT TRIAL.

  Matt awoke, on that memorable Tuesday, to find that fortune wasfavoring him with a clear sky and not enough wind to ripple the flagover the tent.

  McGlory greeted him in a strangely subdued manner. The cowboy had a loton his mind, and Matt rallied him about his odd reserve.

  "Where's Ping?" asked Matt, noting that the little Chinaman was nothovering around his vicinity as usual.

  "Give it up, pard," said McGlory. "Suppose he's off asking his joss togive you luck."

  People were already gathering on the bluffs, and rounding up in wagonsand automobiles in the near vicinity of Camp Traquair.

  While Matt was looking over the a?roplane, Cameron brought severaldignified, gold-laced officers, who had come from distant points towitness the trials. The lieutenant presented them, and the boyish,unaffected manner of the young motorist had a good effect on therepresentatives of the war department.

  "You understand, do you, Motor Matt," said one of these gentlemen,"that you are to stay aloft two hours, with one passenger, and travelat the rate of thirty miles an hour?"

  "Yes, sir," answered Matt. "I can stay aloft three hours just as wellas two, and I think you will see the a?roplane do fifty miles insteadof thirty."

  The officers smiled at his enthusiasm. But they liked it, for it provedthat his heart was in his work.

  "Don't push the machine too hard," counseled one of the officers.

  "I'll not do that, sir," said Matt. "Before I take up the lieutenant,I'll go up alone, to make sure that everything is working well. I havejust found one of the propeller blades loosened--and that looks a gooddeal as though some one had been tampering with the machine. Of course,however," he added, "that's impossible, for the a?roplane has beenguarded night and day."

  "I'd wager my life on O'Hara," put in Cameron, confidently. "He hadcharge of last night's detail."

  As Matt's examination went further, he found bolts loose, here andthere. In fact, so many parts were weakened that the general resultcould hardly be called accidental. However, he liked O'Hara, and didnot want to overturn the lieutenant's trust in him. So, saying nothing,he went on carefully with his examination, tightening everything thatwas loose.

  At last he was satisfied that the a?roplane was in as good trim as ever.

  "I'm a little late in starting," said he to McGlory and Cameron, "butit's always well to be on the safe side. Be ready, old chap," he addedto the lieutenant, "when I come back from this little trial spin."

  In a way that had become an old story to him and his friends, but whichwas intensely new and novel to nine out of every ten of the onlookers,Matt started the _June Bug_ along the road, lifted her into the air,and sailed her far out over the bluff and the lake.

  Everything was working as well as usual. The air craft met the strainin every part, seemingly as staunch as she had always been. At aleisurely jog--just enough to keep the a?roplane afloat with the wingsbut slightly tilted--Matt turned above the lake and glided back to hisstarting point.

  He had done no manoeuvring, attempted no speed, and had not triedto break his record for staying aloft. Nevertheless, the militaryrepresentatives were enthusiastic.

  "Wait until you see Matt put the machine through her paces," said thelieutenant, smiling confidently at his senior officer, as he took hisplace in the machine.

  Two signal corps privates ran with the _June Bug_ to give her a start.The added weight of the lieutenant made her a little slower in takingthe air, and not quite so swift in mounting upward, but Matt soon foundthat she was more easily managed with this additional ballast.

  "By Jove," cried the lieutenant delightedly, "but this is fine! NorthDakota has turned out a lot of people to see this exhibition, Matt.The bluffs are black with them, and everywhere you look you can seepeople with their faces upturned, either gaping in wonder or yellingwith delight. Hear 'em cheer! I should think it would make your bloodtingle."

  "I haven't any time for all that," said Matt, busy with his levers, andwatching everything with a keen, alert eye; "I've got something else tokeep track of. You're watching the time?"

  "Yes. It was ten-fifteen when we started."

  Matt slowly speeded up the engine. The route, as already determined on,was to be across Devil's Lake and back, and then to Minnewaukon andback, going over the course as many times as he could during the twohours the a?roplane must stay in the air.

  At a height of fifty feet above the surface of the earth, their flightthrough the air became a swirling rush. At top speed--a speed whichMatt reckoned as fifty miles an hour--he made a wide, sweeping turnover the roof tops of Devil's Lake City, and plunged off across thelake. A frenzy of cheering arose from the bluffs and Camp Traquair asthe a?roplane darted over them on her way to Minnewaukon.

  "Can't we go higher, Matt?" begged the lieutenant.

  "We'll go higher after we make the turn over Minnewaukon," Matt replied.

  After that, Cameron did not bother Matt with questions. The youngmotorist's every faculty was wrapped up in his work. His ear alone toldhim how well the motor was doing, and his eyes, ears, and his sense oftouch were brought into play in preserving the a?roplane's equilibrium.

  The merest rise of one wing caused a mechanical shifting of the leveron which Matt constantly held his left hand.

  That left hand of the young motorist had been trained to its work inmany an automobile race, and its quickness and cunning did not fail himnow.

  There were some people still left in Minnewaukon--not all the town'sinhabitants had gone to the bluffs or to Camp Traquair. Those thatremained in the place assembled on the streets or on the roof tops,and cheered wildly as the a?roplane veered in a circle and rushed backtoward Totten.

  The official recorder was here, as in Devil's Lake City, noting thetime, and jotting it down on a pad of paper.

  Once turned toward Camp Traquair, Matt sent the a?roplane resolutelyupward. Up and still up the craft glided, forced by the whirlingpropeller and supported by the air under the planes.

  "How high do you think we are now, Cameron?" asked Matt.

  "Three hundred feet, I should say," replied Cameron.

  "I guess that will do. It's easier sailing up here. The air close tothe earth's surface is in a constant state of agitation, but at thisheight it's quieter. Don't you notice how much smoother we're gliding?"

  "I've been noticing that," said Cameron. "It's like a boat on a millpond, only we're traveling like an express train."

  Again they were over Camp Traquair, and again the wild cheering ofthe crowds reached their ears. They crossed the lake, turned, oncemore hovered over Camp Traquair, then glided downward to a height of ahundred feet, and rushed over the air line to Minnewaukon.

  Three times they made the round trip. As they were coming back fromMinnewaukon the third time, Cameron looked at his watch.

  "The two hours are up, Matt," he announced, "and I am almost sorry forit. We'd better go down. You have won the test on every point, and thesale of the a?roplane to the government is assured. If you had a handfree, I'd give you a hearty grip along with my congratulations."

  "Keep that until we land," laughed Matt.

  The cheering came up to them like Bedlam let loose as they drew nearCamp Traquair, and Matt slackened the pace, preparatory to descending.

  Then it was that the unexpected--so far as Matt was concerned--happened.

  There came a snap like the crack of a pistol, and Matt had a suddenvision of a writhing wire rope coiling viciously in the air. It missedhim, but struck the lieutenant on the forehead.

  Instinctively the lieutenant arose on the footboard, and tossed hisarms. It was a fierce blow he had received, and unconsciousness hadclaimed him. Staggering in midair, he would have tottered off intospace had it not been for the king of the motor boys.

  Quick as a flash, Motor Matt caught the lieutenant's arm just in timeto keep him from falling.

  The accident was witnessed by the thousands of specta
tors gatheredbelow. For an instant it seemed as though the fluttering a?roplanewould be overturned and come rushing earthward; then, as the horrifiedpeople watched, the reeling lieutenant was dragged out of sight betweenthe canvas planes, the a?roplane righted suddenly, glided downward, anddropped on her wheels in the road.

  Matt's face was white, but his voice was steady as he called to thosewho were rushing toward the machine.

  "Cameron is only stunned--he'll be all right in a little while. Here,lift him out and lay him on the ground."

  One of the epauletted, gold-laced officers brushed a handkerchiefacross his forehead with a shaking hand.

  "If he lives," said the officer, "he'll owe his life to Motor Matt. Inever saw anything like that before, and I hope I never shall again.Gad, how it strains a man's nerves."

  When Cameron was removed from the machine, Matt passed to the forwardplanes and examined the end of the broken wire guy.

  "It was notched with a file," he asserted, "and for more than two hoursCameron and I have been playing with death, hundreds of feet in theair."

  He passed rapidly to the wire stay supporting the forward planes on theopposite side.

  "This, also, is notched," he added. "If this guy had snapped, nothingcould have saved us!"

  "What murderous scoundrel could have done it?" demanded a dozen fiercevoices.

  "His name is Siwash Charley," said Matt. "It must have been done lastnight. Find the scoundrel, if you can; he should be made to answer forthis."

 
Stanley R. Matthews's Novels